


The Sacrifice

by Tinuviel_Undomiel



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Belle is a Siren, F/M, Imprisonment, May Day Menagerie, Rumbelle - Freeform, definitely some angst, nothing too extreme though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 20:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10794099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinuviel_Undomiel/pseuds/Tinuviel_Undomiel
Summary: Written for May Day Menagerie. Rumplestiltskin is in need of the soul of a Siren, but is stunned when the Siren he finds is someone he once knew. Can he claim her soul in order to find his son, or can he find another way to save her?





	The Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HandwithQuill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandwithQuill/gifts).



            Market day was always a cheerful occasion, at least for Bae. Rumplestiltskin enjoyed the atmosphere, but hated the people. He was the best spinner for miles, but few actually purchased his thread with much enthusiasm. Some even went to the second rate spinner rather than give their coin to the village coward. Still, it was the best time to actually turn a profit in his trade, and to let Bae have some fun.

            Bae loved the market. Despite his father, no one begrudged the boy anything. He would toddle around the booths and smile, often getting a sweet or two from the baker’s wife. There was often a mummer’s play in the square that Bae enjoyed immensely. However, the boy’s favorite thing to do was sit beside his father and watch everyone go by, wondering where they came from, and talking aloud stories of their grand adventures.

            Rumple had sold a spool of thread to the magister’s wife, when Bae leapt off his stool. “Belle!” his son cried in delight. Rumple looked past the frowning customer to see his son run past the tanner’s booth to wrap his arms around the legs of the prettiest woman he had ever seen.

            Belle was a recent addition to the market. She and her father had moved to the village only last year. She came to market every month, often looking at each booth, and always with a book in her hands. She was the first new face in months, another displacement from the Ogres War, but not one of the usual refugees. Her skin was pale and smooth and her hands were softer than cashmere. She could also read, a rarity even among the men of his village. She had come from a town called Avonlea where her father had been a prosperous merchant. Now war had turned them into peasants just like them. However, she lacked the grand airs he had expected from one who had grown up with feather beds and silk clothes.

            She lifted his six-year-old boy and kissed his cheek. “Hello, Bae,” she said, “How are you today?”

            “Good,” Bae said.

            “I have a present for you, can you get to my apron pocket?” Bae slipped one little hand into the pocket of her white apron and pulled two toys. One was a wooden knight, painted with grey armor and wielding a sword. The other was a green dragon with scales that shimmered slightly in the sun.

            “Papa, look!” Bae shouted. He slipped out of Belle’s arms and ran back to the booth to show his father his toys.

            “Those are beautiful,” he said. They were lovely things, but far to extravagant a gift. He looked up at Belle but she shook her head at him.

            “They were mine when I was younger,” she said, “Please, they are of no use to me now.”

            They looked too new for that to be true, but he couldn’t deny his boy this little piece of happiness. “Thank you, Belle,” he said.

            “How have your sales been?”

            “Good,” he said, like he did every time even if he hadn’t sold a thing. This time it was actually true, so there was no ache in his chest when she beamed at him. “How is your father?”

            “Well enough,” Belle said, but her smile faltered a little, “He just need to get used to our life now.”

            It had been nearly a year since they had come here, yet she still said that. He’d never heard her complain about any of her own personal hardships, but surely she had some. Instead, she always smiled and used any spare coin she had to give Bae a little present.

            “I need some blue thread,” Belle said to Rumplestiltskin, “Do you have any?”

            He nodded and pulled out two spools of thread. One was a very rich dark blue, the other was lighter, a bright sky blue that had reminded him of something. Now that she was there, he realized it was the exact color of her eyes.

            “Oh this is amazing!” Belle gasped at the color, “It’s just what I wanted, thank you. How much?”

            “Four coppers,” he said.

            “Are you sure? I thought it would cost more.”

            “No, just four coppers.” If she would have accepted it as a gift, he’d have let her take it, but he knew she would never allow that. Four coppers was enough.

            Belle counted out the money and slid it across the counter to him, except it was six coppers, not four. “Use the other two to buy Bae a treat,” she insisted.

            Rumplestiltskin swallowed the lump in his throat as she winked at him. “Thank you, Belle.”

            “No, thank you, Rumple. Now I can finish the dress I’ve been working on.” Belle reached over to ruffle Bae’s hair. “Bye, Bae, I’ll see you both next market day.”

            Rumplestiltskin watched her walk away, a happy little soul in this provincial village. He couldn’t wait to see her the next market day.

            Little did he know, it would be years before he would see Belle again.

************************************

            The soul of a siren. It was one of the hardest pieces of magic one could obtain. A siren has an external soul, one she guards zealously; something Rumplestiltskin understood all too well. If a siren’s soul was taken, she could be controlled. He could empathize in that respect, but that didn’t change the fact that now he needed a soul. It would give him a link into the other realm, a way to find his boy.

            He’d heard there was siren at Lake Charite, close to his old village. Rumplestiltskin had no intention of returning to his old home, so he bypassed the old memories and magicked himself there. It was a charming little lake, with clear blue waters and willow trees lining all around it’s edge. There were no settlements around the lake, proof that there was a siren that guarded it.

            He picked up a stick and stirred it through the waters, watching as the ripples spread across the surface. He knew the motion would call to the siren, coax her out of her hiding place so she could steal another hapless soul. He smiled as he saw the bubbles forming in the center of the lake. He relished the coming fight. The Dark One yearned for another life to claim, another meal for the curse to savor.

            The creature that rose from the water was dressed all in white with a crystals headpiece in her rich, brown hair. She was a pretty thing. She floated on the surface towards him, each movement full of seductive grace. Every part of her was a trap, a way to lure a man into her cold embrace before she plunged him into the waters and pulled his soul free to enjoy for her own delights. Well she was in for a disappointment. The Dark One could not be fooled.

            “That’s close enough for now, dearie,” he told her once she was a few feet away. Surprisingly, she stopped, tilting her head slightly at him.

            “Do you wish for something?” she asked. Her voice tickled his mind, a beautiful accent that seemed to hang on the air. He had the mad notion of asking her to sing, but that would surely invite trouble. But there was something else. Her voice almost seemed familiar, whispering of a ghost of a memory, but he couldn’t quite place it.

            “Oh, I certainly do,” he said, “though I’m not sure you’d want to give it me.”

            “Don’t be so certain. I can give you many things. I can be anyone you want me to be.” She started towards him again. He could see her skin was pale and shining in the moonlight.

            “Oh, dearie,” he said with a giggle, “I’m not here for that. I don’t think you’d want to tangle with the Dark One either.”

            She stopped. “The Dark One? Truly?”

            “In the flesh.” He gave her a mock bow.

            “Are you truly as powerful as they say?”

            “Oh much more, dearie.”

            The siren swallowed, her feet gliding across the surface again. “I hear you take deals. Will you take one of mine?”

            Oh how delicious. This was going to be all too easy now. “I might,” he said, careful not to sound too eager. “What do you want?”

            “I want you to kill me.”

            He couldn’t hide his surprise even if he’d tried. It was the first time someone had actually asked for death from him. He couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Well, what a coincidence, I’m in need of your soul. Just hand it over and then you’ll be able to die, dearie.”

            The siren shook her head. “I can’t. I don’t have it.”

            He frowned at her and stepped into the waters. The lake was cold, stinging at his skin, but he ignored it. “Where is it?”

            “She has it,” the siren whispered.

            “Who?”

            “The witch.”

            “You’ll have to narrow that down, dearie, I know many witches.”

            “She calls herself Shauna,” the siren said, “That is all I know.”

            Damn. He’d heard of this witch, but had never crossed paths with her yet. Other Dark Ones before him had. She was not one easily controlled. She’d even possessed the dagger for a period of time, before it had been stolen back by the Dark One call Karuf. Karuf even tried to kill her, but somehow he had failed.

            “I know her,” he said.

            “Then please, take my soul from her,” the siren begged, “Let this end. I can’t bear this any longer.”

            Rumplestiltskin looked her over, searching her face. What sort of siren was this? “Is this some sort of trick?” he asked, “Because I’m warning you, dearie, you’ll waste your time trying to trap my soul. I’m the Dark One. You cannot take me.”

            “I don’t want to,” she said, holding out her hands in surrender. “Please, when I heard who you are, I was relieved. I don’t want to kill anyone else. Please, take my soul and let me die.”

            He looked for any sign of a lie on her face, but her only saw eyes that beseeched him for freedom. It was those eyes that captured him. They were a brilliant blue, as clear and bright as the morning sky. He had once made thread that matched those eyes, sold it for a third of what it was worth just to see those eyes light up with joy.

            “What is your name?” he asked her. It couldn’t be her. It was impossible.

            “Belle,” she said quietly, “My name is Belle,”

            Rumplestiltskin snarled, reached out with his clawed hand and wrapping it around her slip throat. “Are you lying to me?” he hissed, “Don’t try to think you can fool me. She died many years ago.”

            “You—know—me?” she choked out.

            “No.” He shoved her away. The siren fell to her knees in the water. “Did you see her face in my mind? Is that what this is? You think you could trap me? I told you, dearie, my soul can’t be held, it’s already bound. It cannot belong to you.”

            “Who are you?” she asked now, “Please, I don’t want your soul, but if I knew you before, then you must help me. I didn’t want to become this. She made me like this.”

            “What?” he asked.

            Belle nodded her head. “The witch, she did this to me. I was once a mortal girl, but she tricked me.”

            “How?” The memory of Belle came to his mind, the last time he’d seen her at the market. He’d never know where she’d gone, but he’d pushed her from his thoughts after that. He had been so used to disappointment then that it had been easy to do, save for the occasional dream that plagued him.

            “My father was miserable. He hated losing everything when the ogres came. I wanted to help him. I feared he would lose himself completely,” she said, tears rolling down her pale cheeks, “The witch promised to help him. She went to him and promised to give him everything he wanted: money, a son to be his heir, everything. She said he would lack for nothing, but only if I served her forever. I thought I was to be her maid, but she had something far more cruel in mind.”

            “She made this?” he gestured to her.

            Belle nodded. “She makes me lure people her and then I steal their souls. She takes the ones she wants. They keep her young and beautiful. It’s how she’s lived for so long.”

            It was an ancient power, one he’d thought forgotten. Shauna must have discovered this dark magic long ago. The Dark One did not care about the trials of this poor siren; it only saw the way to finally get her soul. But Rumplestiltskin…he remembered the way Belle had smiled at him so long ago.

            “I’ll get your soul,” Rumplestiltskin said, “I’ll give you peace.” He wouldn’t let Belle live like this anymore, not that sweet maiden he’d dreamed of during the worse times.

            “Thank you,” she said, climbing back to her feet. She took one of his clawed hands into both of hers. Her fingers were wet and cold, but the set tingles through his arm. The Dark One didn’t like the sensation, warring at it in his mind. He quickly plucked his hand free.

            “I’m just fulfilling a deal, dearie,” he said, “You can go back to your pond now.”

            He turned away, ready to return to his castle to find out where this witch was. “Wait!” he heard Belle call out.

            He turned to look at her. “You know who I am,” she said, “You knew me before, didn’t you?”

            “I did,” he admitted.

            “Who are you? Were we friends?”

            “Yes, we were friends. That is all you need to know.” With that said, he forced himself away with his magic. He didn’t want her to know what her old spinner friend had become. Better for her to think Rumplestiltskin died a long time ago. She wouldn’t want to know just what that poor lame man became.

************************************

            Rumplestiltskin remembered when Belle had disappeared. Bae had been eager to show her the cloth he had woven for her, with his father’s help. However, they had waited all day and she’d never come.

            “Maybe she was sick,” he’d told his son. So they both had waited until the next market day. Once again, she never came. This time, Rumplestiltskin had left his booth for a time to seek her and her father out, but they were nowhere to be found. Be had asked where she was, and he’d had to say he didn’t know.

            “Did she die like mama?” Bae had asked, tears filling his big brown eyes.

            “No,” he’d said, but he wasn’t certain if that was true, “Perhaps she married a fine lord and is happy in a castle somewhere.”

            It was a pretty story that had made his son smile, but Bae never looked forward to market day the same way again. Truth be told, Rumplestiltskin always scanned the crowds seeking those brilliant blue eyes every time, but to now avail. Eventually, he just gave up and accepted that another person had fled from his life.

            Now he finally had an answer. Belle had been transformed into a siren, imprisoned under the whim of a cruel witch. The Dark One told him to forget about the past. He needed the soul and nothing more. But every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the way she’s taken his hands in hers the first time they’d met.

            She’d stared at the grooves and ridges in his worn, rough hands. Belle had traced the calluses on his fingers with her fingertips. “You have such strong hands,” she said, “You are so skilled, Rumplestiltskin. You work harder than anyone I’ve ever known.”

            He thought about his boy and how much he’d cared for Belle, sweet Belle who’d bought him candies and toys. He had to help her, even if freeing her meant killing her.

            Rumplestiltskin searched for this Shauna. He used every magic he could find, every favor he could pay, but could turn up no trace of the witch. She had lived nearly as long as the Dark One. Her magic would be considerably great and far more difficult to trace. He knew he had to find out more about this elusive witch, and there was only one source he could think of.

            Belle came out of her lake, still beautiful and pale, but a ghost of a smile crossed her face when she saw him. “Have you come to kill me?” she asked.

            “Not just yet,” he said, “I haven’t found the witch.”

            “She said she has ancient magic,” Belle told him.

            “So do I, but mine is stronger.”

            “I hope so.”

            “When does she come?” Rumplestiltskin ask her, “She must come for the souls you take for her.”

            Belle nodded, but the corners of her mouth drooped. “She comes every three months. If I don’t have any souls for her…” Her blue eyes turned wide and she swallowed thickly. “She has a lash. It’s made of gold, but it burns like fire. I cannot heal from the wounds until she returns, and only if I give her what she demands.”

            Something twisted inside of him at her words. Not his Belle. She couldn’t have endured something so cruel. Rumplestiltskin gritted his teeth. “When does she return?”

            “In another month,” Belle said. She reached for his hand and squeezed it in her cold, wet fingers. “Please, I don’t want to kill anyone else. I’m so tired of death.”

            “I’ll kill her when she returns,” he promised, “You won’t have to kill anyone else.”

            He didn’t know what possessed him, but he conjured up a book for her with his magic. Belle had never been without a book before. She’d even offered to teach Bae how to read. Now Belle looked at his gift with eyes full of wonder.

            “For you,” he said, holding out the book.

            Belle reached for the book like it would turn into dust at her touch. She gingerly opened it, thumbing through the pages with eagerness. “Oh thank you!” she cried, tears brimming her eyes.

            He had no warning of her intentions. Suddenly she threw her arms around him, pulling him into her embrace. Her skin was cold and wet, but he could feel the rhythm of her heart pounding against his chest.

            Something peculiar pooled in his belly, an odd fluttering feeling. He had never experienced a magic like this before. It must have come from Belle, another way for a siren to seduce her victim. Yes, that had to be it.

            Rumplestiltskin pulled himself out of her embrace, carefully taking a step back. “Yes, well, I thought…just enjoy it.”

            Belle traced the cover of the book with her finger. “You remembered that I love books,” she marveled. She looked up at him with a smile. “I wish you would tell me who you are.”

            His name was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed the word back down. “I doubt you would remember me,” he said with a sniff, “I was no one before.”

            He turned to leave, ready to disappear into a puff of smoke, but then he felt her cool touch on his arm. “Please,” Belle asked, “Will you come back? It’s been so long since I’ve had a friend.”

            A friend? The Dark One didn’t have friends. Oh he had congenial enemies, but never a friend. It was on the tip of his tongue to deliver some nasty retort, a reminder to her just who she was dealing with. But…this was Belle. Every time he looked at her, he was reminded of his son and how much Bae had adored her.

            “Yes,” he said before he could talk himself out of it, “I’ll be back.”

************************************

            He tried to stay away, or at least not return to her so soon, but he could only manage a week before the memories of those brighter days before beckoned for him to return. He brought back another book for Belle, one he was certain she would enjoy. When he arrived at the lake, he saw he was not alone.

            Some foolish young man had wandered in, likely a shepherd. He must have prodded the waters either for a drink, or just to really see if there was a siren there. Belle had been lured to the surface and already had her arms wound around the man’s neck, ready to drag him down.

            “Oh dear,” Rumplestiltskin said, “Oh dearie, dear, dear, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

            The young man snapped out of the siren spell. He stared at him, taking in the scaly skin and the monstrous red eyes. “You-you’re the Dark One.”

            “Indeed,” he replied, “Would you like to be turned into a pig or a rat?”

            The boy slipped in the mud in his quest to escape, covering his whole front in muck. Still he recovered quickly and soon had disappeared into the forest. Rumplestiltskin giggled at the sport. His laughter died when he felt two arms wrap around him from behind.

            “Thank you,” Belle said, “I didn’t want to kill him, but I had no choice.”

            Rumplestiltskin wondered over that for a moment. He remembered the early days of his curse, how his emotions ruled his magic so well to the point where he killed over minor things. Now, he had more control and preferred curses to death unless the person was particularly vile or irksome. However, he never felt like he was without a choice. He enjoyed the power he had in the beginning when it came to deciding life or death. Yet he had no master other than the chain that bound him to the dagger. Belle was without choice.

            The Dark Ones before him who had been controlled by masters whispered about those terrible times where they were slaves. Zoso had tricked him into killing him in order to escape his enslavement. He may not have endured it himself, but he knew the pain Belle lived with.

            “Yes, well,” he said unsure of what to say, “I doubt he would have been a palatable soul anyways.”

            Belle wrinkled her nose at him. “I don’t consume the souls. I save them for Shauna.”

            “Of course, I just…” he let out a sigh, amazed that despite living for three hundred years, he still couldn’t grasp how to talk to a woman, “Never mind, dearie. I brought you another book.”

            Her blue eyes lit up like torches at twilight. She eagerly held out her hands so he could produce the promised book. “Oh this is one of my favorites!” she cried out in delight.

            “I can find you another you haven’t read.”

            “No!” Belle cried out, clutching the book her chest, “Please, I want to read it again. It’s been so long.”

            “Then enjoy it,” he said, giving her a smile that for once held no mischief to it.

            “I will,” she promised, but made no move to open the book or retreat back to her home. Instead, she sat down on a boulder on the edge of her lake. She continued to smile at him, her eyes brighter than they were the day he found her here. In that moment, he could glimpse the Belle he had once known.

            “I’ll leave you to your reading,” he said simply because he didn’t know what else to say.

            “Wait,” she called out, “Do you have to leave?”

            “I…well…no.”

            “Oh good, please stay. I rarely get to talk to anyone. I would enjoy some company.”

            His company? No one had ever sought him out before or wanted him to stay and chat, not even when he was an ordinary man. No…that wasn’t true. Belle had.

            “Alright,” he said, twisting his hands together.

            “Can I ask your name?”

            “No,” he said.

            Belle blinked at him. “Why not? You know mine.”

            “Names have power, dearie,” he said, “I never give out my name freely.”

            “Very well, though I wish I could know who you are,” she said mournfully, “If not your name, may I ask what you like to do?”

            “What?” he questioned.

            “Do you have hobbies? You know I love reading. I’ve been wondering what you like to do.”

            “Putting curses on fools,” he said with grin.

            Belle glared at him and shook her head, but a smile curved her lips. “You’re teasing me.”

            “Just a little.”

            She swatted at him with her hand. “Seriously, what do you like to do?”

            Rumplestiltskin thought about it, though he knew the answer immediately. Should he tell her? What harm would it be? Surely she wouldn’t remember him, not after so much time.

            “I like to spin,” he said.

            “Spin? With a spinning wheel?”

            He nodded. “I spin straw into gold.”

            Belle lifted her brows. “Now that is something I would like to see.”

            “I’ll have to take you to my castle and show you.”

            Belle’s blue eyes flickered down and her smile faded away. “I can’t. I’m bound to this lake.”

            Damn, how could he have forgotten that? Unless her soul was returned to her, Belle would be bound to the body of water the witch cursed her to. He thought about sending his wheel here, but something told him that the moment was lost to them now. It would only serve to remind Belle of her imprisonment.

            “Perhaps I can give you another gift,” he said. He picked some of the long strands of grass growing on the edge of her lake. He braided them together like he had in his youth. He closed the braided grass into his fist. When he opened his palm there was now braided rope of pure gold in it’s place.

            Belle let out a gasp. “That’s amazing!”

            He smiled and held out the rope for her. She accepted the sparkling treasure, admiring how it glinted in the sunlight for only a moment. Then she grabbed his hand, turning it over so its palm was facing up.

            “What are you doing?” he asked curiously.

            “Your hands,” Belle said, tracing the lines in his hands and rubbing over the calluses with her fingertips, “They…they feel familiar. They’re so strong…I know these hands.”

            She lifted her head up with eyes full of tears. She couldn’t know; it was impossible. “Rumplestiltskin,” she whispered.

            He ripped his hands out of hers and took two big steps backward. Belle reached out and took his arm before he could vanish. “It is you,” she said, “How? I thought…I can’t believe you’re here.”

            Wait, was she…excited? There was a spark in her eyes now, her lips curling into a smile of joy she’d only ever given to the books he brought her. How did she even remember him? He had been a lowly spinner of no importance at all. After so long, he should have been forgotten.

            He didn’t even have time to respond before she had wrapped her arms around him again. “I’ve missed you,” Belle whispered into his shirt. She lifted her head to meet his eyes now, blinking at him with those bottomless blue depths. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were before?”

            “I…I…didn’t think you’d remember,” he said.

            “Of course I do,” Belle said with a slight, wistful look in her eyes, “You were my friend. You and Bae.”

            Her blue eyes widened now. “Bae!” she half shouted, stepping out from his embrace, “What happened to Bae? Is he alright?”

            Rumplestiltskin wasn’t sure what to say to her. It was his greatest shame and yet…did he lie and say his boy was dead? Could he do that to her? The word ‘no’ screamed in his mind. His precious Belle had been through far too much as it was.

            “It’s a long story,” he said instead.

            “I’m a siren and you’re the Dark One,” Belle said, “We have plenty of time for stories.”

            So he told her everything, how the ogres came and Bae was to be enlisted when he turned fourteen, how he stole the dagger and was tricked into killing the Dark One. He told her how he ended the Ogres War, how Bae wanted to save him and the Blue Fairy’s gift to him. His voice broke when he confessed how he let go of his son when he the chasm to the Land Without Magic threatened to take them both.

            He found himself telling her even more. His quest to find a way to his son that led to a bean in the possession of pesky rodent of a man called Smee. How he found out his wife was still alive and living with pirates. How his fury at her in abandoning his son and her confession to having never loved him enraged him to the point of crushing her heart in his fist. He told her of all the lived he took, all in his need to find a way to get his boy back.

            He told her how there was an ancient magic, one that required the soul of a siren to enter another world, which led him to her lonely lake and finding her now.

            Tears fell from Belle’s eyes at the end of his tale. “Oh Rumple,” she said quietly. He thought she would turn away from him in disgust, but she took his hand and squeezed it. “I hate how you’ve suffered, and Bae, you have to find him.”

            “I will,” he promised her.

            Belle nodded. “Yes you will,” she said, “Because in three days Shauna will come. Take my soul from her, Rumple, and then use it to find Bae.”

            Rumplestiltskin tensed at her words. “If I use your soul, Belle, you’ll die,” he reminded her.

            “Yes,” she said calmly, “But you’ll have your son back. That’s what truly matters.”

            She was right. He had vowed he would do anything to find his son, no matter the cost. She’d already agreed to die before in order to be set free from the burden of the deaths she’d already caused. Wouldn’t this be a kindness to her? Somehow, that thought did little to comfort him.

            “Three days?” he asked her, “You’re certain?”

            Belle nodded. “I received a message from her yesterday.”

            Three days. He only had three days left with Belle before he killed her. Once again, he was left realizing just how cruel like could be.

************************************

            Rumplestiltskin tried not to think about what was coming. The voices in his head were not helping him on that score. One previous Dark One had never settled a score with a siren so he was eager for the three days to end so he could watch Belle die. The others just welcomed the idea of taking another life. Normally Rumple wouldn’t be so bothered by this, but…it was Belle.

            Nimoe reminded him, _“She wants to die. She wants you to end her suffering and find your son.”_

            He knew all of that, but that part of him that was still the spinner with the hopeless infatuation for the beautiful maiden with impossibly blue eyes continued to remind him of those better days.

            He did his best to shove it all out of his mind. Instead, he spun, and spun, and spun. He filled up three rooms with gold and forgot to eat his meals. It was easier to forget whenever he watched the wheel and the way the straw turned into a rope of pure gold. Unfortunately, he was reminded of how Belle wanted to see this little trick of his, and that soured the whole thing.

            There was little he could go that wouldn’t remind him of his appointed task. He saw the staff he’d used back in the old days and remembered a time when Hordor had tripped him, taking away the staff. Belle had wrenched it from the cruel man’s grasp and handed it back to him, brave, wonderful Belle.

            He went to the library and marveled over how much she would love to read these books. There were books he was certain she had never read before that he knew she would adore. Books that he wanted to tell her about, toe share with her all of their secrets.

            He walked the gardens and thoughts about how she used to love flowers. Bae once grabbed a handful of weeds and wildflowers to give her, and Belle had acted like they were the most beautiful things in the world. She had even promised to bring them home to show her father.

            Everything in his castle reminded him of Belle. He hadn’t thought of her in years, had tried to shove all of those days out of his mind, but now he saw her everywhere. He thought about going to see her again, but he knew that would only make things worse. What more could he say to her, _Thank you for being willing to be martyred for the sake of my son?_ He could bring her another book, but the thought of bringing one that she would never finish somehow pained his heart more than anything else.

            So he did the only thing he could do: he waited until the sun rose on the third day. He cursed each passing hour, but they continued to creepy by. Then the sun peeked out over the horizon. The time had come.

            He blinked into the new day, took in a deep breath, and then willed himself to Belle’s lake. There was no sign of the witch, but Rumplestiltskin could feel Belle waiting beneath the waters. The air was thick with her fear. When he put his hand into the water, he could feel the pulse of her heart beating rapidly deep beneath the surface. He sent a slight charm into the water, something to soothe her rattled nerves and let her know he was there.  

            There was a rustle in the leaves, but Rumplestiltskin could feel no wind. He waited, tapping his foot for the show of it when the witch manifested out of the leaves. The brown and green foliage became her clothes. Her skin was a dusky brown, like black tea doused in milk, and her hair was a lustrous black with odd green streaks instead of the typical grey. Her eyes were a dark brown, but the only sign of age Rumplestiltskin could see were the lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth.

            It was the vain ones that he hated the most. He had many ask for lust potions or wealth, but by far it was the ones seeking eternal youth or beauty that called his name the most. Looks had never been his strong suit, and once he became the Dark One, mattered even less. There were far more important things in the world. Beauty was so shallow, so fleeting. He could never understand its importance to people.

            Shauna squinted at him like he was still the peasant he used to be, a look that set his teeth on edge. “The Dark One?” she questioned in a way that sounded amused, “What are you doing here?”

            “I’m here for your siren,” he said calmly.

            Now her dark eyes narrowed with pure venom. “She called you? That little worm!”

            Shauna clutched at diamond that was set on her neck. Only then did Rumplestiltskin see that it didn’t shine in the sun, but glowed from within. Belle’s soul.

            The waters in the lake bubbled. Belle lifted out of the froth looking even paler than he’d seen her before. Her blue eyes were wide and she chewed her lip as she dutifully made her way towards her mistress. “You called upon the Dark One to set you free, didn’t you?” Shauna spat at her, “Well it won’t do you any good. You are mine. You swore to serve me forever and so you shall!”

            She gripped the trapped soul so hard her knuckles turned white. Belle let out a cry and fell to her knees in the water. It took everything Rumplestiltskin had to not throttle the witch with every ounce of magic he possessed.

            “Please, dearie,” he said in as even a voice as possible, “As impressive your wrath is, your little siren didn’t call for me. I came on my own.”

            Shauna peered at him, letting her fingers relax slightly on Belle’s soul. “What do you want?”

            “I want your siren’s soul.”

            The look of surprise on the witch’s face likely added a few more wrinkles. “What do you need her soul for?”

            “That’s my business,” he said casually, “Now be a good witch and hand it over.”

            Shauna laughed at him. “Oh I don’t think so. She’s been in my possession for over a century. Go find another siren.”

            “Now why would I do that when there is one here?” Rumplestiltskin shook his head at her, “You don’t want to tangle with me, dearie.”

            “No, it’s you who doesn’t want to tangle with me,” she spat out. She placed her hand on the ground, cracks spread through the earth from her fingers. There was a rumbling sound before the ground opened up and swallowed him down like he was soup.

            “Rumple!” Belle screamed, but it was too late. Shauna smiled and let the ground seal him up. There was no more effective coffin than that.

            Belle fell to her knees again, this time of her own accord. Tears ran down her face and sank into the lake. She would turn it into an ocean with her tears if she could. He was her friend, her last one in this world. And Bae, that poor boy. Now they would never find one another.

            “Stop your weeping, little fool,” Shauna hissed at her. “Do you have any souls for me?”

            Tears still wet her cheeks, but Belle didn’t care. She wrenched herself back to her feet. “No!” she cried, “I don’t have a soul for you and I’ll never take another for you ever again! You can kill me now for all I care! I won’t be your slave anymore!”

            “Oh we’ll see about that,” Shauna declared. A whip appeared into her hand, it’s lash made of pure fire. Belle knew this tool very well, but she didn’t care if she had more scars. None of it mattered anymore.

            Shauna raised the whip high, but Belle just stared at it blankly, ready for it to come. Suddenly, the witch let out a gasp. The whip fell from her hands and vanished when it hit the ground. Shauna turned around and only then did Belle gasp at what she saw.

            Rumplestiltskin stood behind her clutching a beating heart, twisted and black. “Rumple!” Belle cried out, tears falling again but for a different reason.

            “You forget, _dearie_ ,” he hissed at her, “I am the Dark One. I can only be killed by one way, and your little parlor tricks won’t work.”

            “I can give you a soul,” Shauna pleaded, “There is another siren. I can help you get her soul.”

            Rumplestiltskin sneered at her. “Really, dearie, you have nothing to negotiate with now.”

            Belle watched as he squeezed her heart into it fist. Shauna let out bloodcurdling scream, clutching at her breast and sinking to the ground. She began to age before their eyes, transforming into a shriveled old woman. He kept squeezing onto the organ until it was nothing more than a handful of dust. Shauna withered away into the ground, her flesh and bones turning into the very dirt she lay on before the wind took her away forever.

            Rumplestiltskin dropped the remains of the damned witch’s heart, dusting off his palms to be rid of her forever. A splash came from the lake, but before he could look to check on Belle, he found himself wrapped up in her arms again.

            Belle squeezed him tight, pressing her face into his chest. “I thought you were dead,” she sobbed again, “I thought she killed you.”

            Rumplestiltskin swallowed back the lump in his throat. The Dark One didn’t hug, but the Spinner couldn’t help but gently rub at her back, trying to soothe her. “It’s alright,” he said, “I can’t be killed so easily.”

            He wasn’t used to having someone worry over him or he would have told her of his intentions. Now there was something else he wasn’t used to: guilt. He hadn’t meant to frighten Belle. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I should have told you.”

            Belle pulled away from him, swiping at her cheeks with her hand. “It’s okay. I should have realized…” She stopped suddenly, looking down at the dirt where her captor had died.

            There, winking in the sun was the diamond, the cage for Belle’s pure soul.

            Rumplestiltskin picked it up from the dirt, brushing it off so it shined with it’s perfect light. Of course her soul was so bright, so vibrantly good. Belle was the kindest, gentlest person he’d ever known. No wonder Shauna had wanted to possess it so badly. She would be irresistible to any fool who wandered by, not because of her siren powers bestowed by her curse, but because she was Belle.

            “You have it now,” Belle said quietly, “Will it work?”

            Yes, it would work beautifully. It was so strong, so vibrant. It could easily open a door to any realm because of how magnificently pure it was. He couldn’t find the words to say all of that to her. Instead, he nodded briefly, but that was enough.

            “Good,” she said, “Use it now.”

            “What?” he gasped.

            “Take it and use it to finish your spell and bring Bae home,” Belle said, “Just…promise me that you’ll never tell him what happened to me.”

            Rumplestiltskin frowned at her. “Why would you want that?”

            “I don’t want him to know about what I’ve done. I don’t want him to know that I killed people. I would rather him…and you, to remember me how I was,” she said. A single tear fell, gleaming in the sunlight.

            Belle hastily wiped it away and shut her eyes. “I’m ready. Do it, Rumplestiltskin.”

            Dozens of voices in his heads said the same words. _Do it. Do it. Do it. Kill her. Do it. Save your son. Do it. Do it._

_DO IT!_

            It would be so easy to take her soul and bind it to the spell, the key to open the door. This was the perfect soul. Even if he found another siren, he was certain their soul would be to rotten and black to be of any use. If he was to do it, he had to use this one.

            But as he held that soul in his hand, his little’s son voice echoed in his mind. _“Where did Belle go, Papa? What happened to her?”_

            What would he say to his boy if he asked him that? Could he lie again, now knowing the truth like he did? Could he ever look at his son again knowing that he had killed their beloved friend in order to bring him back?

            It was more than that. Could he live with himself if he took her life?

            Rumplestiltskin closed the diamond into his fist. There was a brief burst of magic that warmed his palm. When he opened his hand, the diamond was gone. “Belle,” he said her name gently.

            She opened her eyes, blinking at him in confusion. Then her fingers reached up to her throat. Around her neck was a gold chain. The diamond that held her soul was ensnared there, set against her breast. She fingered it gently, feeling the warmth of his magic there. “I don’t…I don’t understand.”

            “Your soul is yours,” he said, “You’re free, Belle. You can go where you like, do what you like.”

            “But I’m still…I’m still a siren.”

            He nodded. “The curse is in your soul. The only way to free you would be to kill you.”

            “Then why don’t you do it? I want you to.”

            “I can’t,” he said quietly, “I can’t do it.”

            “But…I don’t want to be a killer anymore,” she begged of him.

            “Oh, Belle,” he said and gently took her hand, “You never were. Your soul is too pure, so perfect, it would only be like that if you were innocent. Shauna may have turned you into her weapon, but you were never a murderer.”

            Belle touched the pure white jewel, shaking her head. “I don’t…I’m not…”

            “Belle, I can’t kill you,” he said again, “You were my friend. You even remembered me after all of these years. I may be as dark as they come, but I couldn’t destroy the one ray of light left for me in the world.”

            He lifted her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to it. “Go and live a wonderful life,” he said.

            He turned to leave again, prepared to whisk himself back to his castle. “Wait!” Belle cried out. He turned to look back at her again. “What about Bae?”

            Rumplestiltskin shut his eyes at his son’s name. “I’ll find another way,” he said, “There is always another way.”

            Belle crept towards him slowly and then took his hand again. “If you won’t use my soul…can I at least help you find this other way?”

            He gaped at her, feeling his black heart hammering against his ribs. “You—you want to—come with me?”

            She smiled a little. “I don’t know anyone else in this world. I’d rather explore it with a friend now that I’m free.”

            A friend. Those were words he’d never thought would be associated with him. He shouldn’t let her come with him. She was a distraction, a bit of nostalgia from his past. More than that, every time she smiled at him he felt fire racing through his blood.

            But he still saw the pain in her eyes, the fear and heartbreak that the years of enslavement had brought her. He could send her away, but what would happen to her? Would she ever understand that nothing she’d endured had been her fault?

            Besides, there were no rules that said the Dark One couldn’t have friends.

            Rumplestiltskin smiled back and gently squeezed her hand. “I do have a rather large castle. It might be nice to have someone to talk to. I also have a library that could use some dusting.”

            The way her eyes sparkled at his words made him laugh. He snapped his fingers and they disappeared from her former prison in a cloud of purple smoke.


End file.
